


Patrick Stump: Insufferable Bastard

by stumph



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Andy and joe are good for friends, Love At First Fight, M/M, Van Days, pete is a grouch, prompt, sleeping problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 17:41:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12370716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stumph/pseuds/stumph
Summary: Pete just wants to sleep. Patrick just wants to read. Apparently, the two don't fucking match up.





	Patrick Stump: Insufferable Bastard

**Author's Note:**

> First posted fic on AO3, will be reposting old fics I wrote on my old account.

The whipping of the wind was what was currently fucking with Pete’s sleep. That? And Patrick. The next time Patrick started fucking humming, Pete was going to lose his fucking mind. Wedged between an amp and a pile of Joe’s dirty socks wasn't his ideal way to spend a Wednesday night (it was with alcohol and a movie), regardless, he needed to at least get a solid hour over the next forty eight.

“Piss break,” Andy grunted and veered off into a nearby gas station, letting Joe escape with a frantic ‘ohthankgod’ before padding out. Patrick was reading in the seat in front of Pete- so Pete crawled over him to pump some gas into this fucking shit-can.

“Hey,” Patrick whined as Pete jostled over him, shoving the door open and making Pete spill out onto the concrete. Normally, Pete would brush it off- but Pete had gotten in four arguments and had been let down three times that day. Andy and Joe weren't there, and he just- broke.

Grabbing Patrick by the collar, he yanked the slightly smaller man out of his seat and shoved him up against the freezing metal of the van. Pete’s ears were ringing, his vision tinted red- a red that accentuated the way Patrick’s lips formed around a cry of confusion. Pete drew a fist back and pounded it into Patrick’s jaw, watching as he fell. Watched the pain blossom on his face as he collapsed.

People didn't give Patrick enough credit for how vicious he could be. When he hit the ground, he grabbed Pete’s knee and pulled, yelling every variation of every word he knew that could cut Pete like a knife. Getting Pete on an equal playing field. Pete fell, surprised, but came down with an elbow to Patrick’s stomach- the younger boy hissed and swung a closed fist sideways at Pete’s cheek, using the moment to climb on top of him and try to pin Pete’s tattooed fists to the cement.

Pete stared at Patrick and flinched, then slammed his head up to knock their foreheads together. Patrick cried out and held his forehead, giving Pete an opportunity to buck him off and throw three quick punches at his face. That’s when it was over for Patrick, the tears streaming down his face. And as soon as Pete realized what he was doing, it was over for him too.

Andy hooked his arms under Pete's shoulders and yanked him back, his bellows of anger falling on Pete’s unhearing ears. All he could see was Joe, shaking Patrick gently, and Patrick sitting up to look at him, terrified and bloody. Pete’s face contorted- fuck, he was still just as pretty as before- as Andy spun him around to shave him. “What the fuck, what are you, psycho?” Andy was yelling, in his face.

“No.” Pete mumbled, feeling the blood leaking from his forehead drop down his nose. Andy scoffed and shoved him into the van, growling something about Pete being a maniac. The thoughts descended on Pete like flocks of crows, of him being fuckin’ crazy, a sleepless picture of a lunatic, when he saw himself in the reflection of the window. His hair was all over the place, shirt ripped, blood making trails around the bags under his eyes. Untreatable. Untrustable. Unlovable. He stared until he saw a ripple, until he saw an arm wrapping around his neck.

Good. Strangle me. I deserve it.

Until he realized the arm wasn't there to hurt him, neither was the boy behind it. Patrick wrapped the blanket he was holding around Pete. “You're an insufferable bastard,” Pete mumbled half-heartedly, and Patrick made a weak noise. Much bloodier than him, but always more patient.

“Shut the fuck up, Pete. Seriously. Shut the fuck up.”


End file.
